


the same sweet shock

by quantumoddity



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Anal Sex, Being Walked In On, Car Sex, Fluff and Smut, Other, Post-Episode: s03e01-02 Juno Steel and the Man in Glass, Smut, Trans Peter Nureyev, semi canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 07:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23967436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: It's hard to find privacy on a space ship. But Peter Nureyev always gets what he wants, especially when what he wants is Juno Steel.
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko & Peter Nureyev & Rita & Jet Sikuliaq & Juno Steel & Vespa, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 14
Kudos: 155





	the same sweet shock

As accustomed as he’d become to it, the  _ Carte Blanche _ was in want of a few amenities, as far as Peter Nureyev was concerned. Decent showers that didn’t run out of hot water while he still had shampoo in his hair, thicker walls so he couldn’t hear every word of Rita’s long conversations with this Franny person, larger quarters to actually accommodate the costume wardrobe of a self respecting thief. 

And, most importantly, some privacy. 

At this point, every member of their crime family had walked in on him and Juno in some… well, compromising and less than professional positions. They’d ranged in levels of embarrassment at least. Lower on the scale was Jet knocking practically politely on Juno’s bunk door at three in the morning to announce that their love making (yes, he had used that phrase without a hint of irony) had reached acceptable volume levels and he was trying to sleep. Medium was Vesper putting a knife through the door of the closet they’d been occupying, nearly hitting Nureyev in some parts he’d rather not have a knife be, after she’d assumed their noise was intruders. The real disaster had been when Rita had walked into the kitchen, returning early from the supply run and promptly shattering the empty ship they’d thought they had for a few hours, finding them in the kitchen with Nureyev bending Juno over the table, hand down the back of his pants. It wasn’t so much the being caught that was so disastrous, as bad as that was, it was more that Rita’s reaction was to screech, cover her eyes and run smack into the counter. Then the table. Then the doorframe. 

In short, Nureyev had put up with as much as he was willing to. He hadn’t gone through two years of pining for Juno to be denied him, now that he had him. 

“Where exactly are we going, Ransom?” Juno panted as he was pulled haphazardly down the narrow stairways into the lower cargo holds of the ship.

Nureyev looked over his shoulder, across the bridge of their clasped hands, raising his eyebrow pointedly.

Juno caught on fast, eye darting left and right to check no one was in earshot before grinning, “Where are we going,  _ Nureyev?” _

He loved how Juno Steel said his name, he had since the first time he’d watched his scarred lips form those syllables, saying them like they had inherent value beyond whatever mystery Nureyev had constructed around them. Like they mattered, like his name mattered just because it was his name. 

“We are going to find some peace, darling,” he answered, working open the last door, “I am done looking over my shoulder everytime I want you, it's exhausting.”

“We have two bunks, you know...just a hallway between them?”

“Yes, we do, love,” Nureyev arched a perfect eyebrow, “And are you incredibly eager for Rita to hack your comms again and pipe in that infernal playlist she has, especially to throw us off?”

Juno turned the colour of a Jovian star cherry. He clearly thought of their tiny, purple haired hacker as a younger sister and he was really never going to recover from her even being aware that he had sex. 

“I see your point...so where are we going? I, uh...I didn’t bring any, ah, equipment…”

“Taken care of it, dear heart,” Nureyev assured him airily, pulling him through the door to the main hangar, “Fortunately, where we’re having our date tonight comes fully equipped.” 

Juno’s brow furrowed in that adorable way it did when he couldn’t figure something out, though it quickly slackened into realisation and excitement when he saw. 

“Oh, Jet is going to kill us…”

Nureyev laughed, pulling him to his side, “Only if he finds out. And I certainly don’t plan on telling him, do you?”

The Ruby 7 looked fast even when utterly still, crouched in the hold where it had been sat since they’d lifted off from Mars. But in Nureyev’s eyes, it would always be speeding across the red sands under his own hands, a certain detective sat beside him looking unfairly beautiful and dangerous as they pulled off the impossible together. 

He’d often thought back, even in the days where it had been painful, and tried to pin down the exact moment he’d fallen in love with Juno Steel. It might have been the first time he’d let his brain take a back seat to the adrenaline in his nerves and kissed him, in the gloom of his apartment. It might have been watching him work, eyes flashing as he’d saved his name at the card table or on the train. It might have been with the heavy door between them as Nureyev had split his knuckles against it, knowing he just couldn’t let Juno die. Hell, it might have been the very first moment he’d set eyes on him back in his office or, rather, his backside hanging over the windowsill. 

Or maybe it had been watching him leaning over the top of the Ruby 7, hair streaming back in the wind, looking like a vengeful god, like he could do anything. More of a thief than Nureyev could ever hope to be, plucking his heart from his rib cage in that moment. 

What he felt for Juno these days, he couldn’t put his finger on just yet. It wasn’t the wild and sudden certainty that had found them back on Mars and left them both hurt in its wake. This was more of a slow, sure footed climb. All Nureyev knew was that it felt good to have Juno beside him, in him, around him. So they were just going with it for now and not asking too many questions.

“Say, why is it called the Ruby 7 if it’s green? Shouldn’t it be red?” Juno piped up, touching the hood of the car as if saying hello.

Nureyev snorted, already undoing his tie, “Am I that unalluring that I bring you down here with the express purpose of having sex with you and that’s all you focus on?”

Juno immediately became flustered, ruffling up like a startled bird, “No, I mean...I was just being a dumbass…”

Nureyev chuckled, approaching him with as much sway in his hips as he could muster in a short distance, sliding the tie around Juno’s neck and using it to close the distance between them, “I’m only teasing, dear heart. It’s rather obvious that you want me, if you don’t mind my saying…” He slid his eyes pointedly downwards. 

Juno cleared his throat, eye following Nureyev’s and catching his meaning, “Well...can’t blame me, right? Look at you…”

If Nureyev had ever been the type to blush, he would have gone scarlet at that. He’d put in a little more effort than usual, it had to be said, in his slimmest trousers and most hugging corset. All for the joy of seeing Juno nearly choke on his food when he’d sat down to dinner with the rest of the crew. 

Nureyev let go of the tie, letting it drape around Juno’s shoulders (perhaps he’d bring it into play later, he hadn’t decided) and undoing the buttons of his blouse instead, “Thank you...though I think I’d look better wearing nothing at all, don’t you?”

Juno’s grin shone through then, like sun breaking through clouds, like sudden freedom when you’d thought you were done for, “Let’s see, huh?”

It was cold in the hangar but Juno was so, so warm, a planet with a molten heart. Once their clothes were dispensed with, left to lie on the cool metal floor, Nureyev pressed himself as close as he could to feel that heat, chasing away any chill he might have felt. He was taller than Juno but Juno was fuller, able to fold him up and hold him close in such a way that it was as if nothing else existed. They collapsed onto the back seat of the Ruby 7, careful not to let any errant hands or feet or elbows hit a button that might send them careening forward or release a thick smoke screen or goodness knew what else.

It was cramped and close but there was something thrilling about that, like they were two teenagers getting handsy in the backseat of a beat up car after a date, not that either of them had ever experienced something so innocent and carefree in their youth. Juno ended up underneath, all the angles and hard lines of Nureyev splayed on top of him, feet braced on the inside of the door, one hand gripping the opposite edge with white knuckled fingers. 

Nureyev could feel Juno against the inside of his leg, so hard it had to be bordering on painful. Clearly something had to be done. 

He drew out of the kiss, panting softly, half smiling when Juno gave a whine at the distance between them, as if a few inches could be unbearable. 

Nureyev shushed him softly, tapping his chest, “Don’t you worry now, dear heart. I brought you here to take care of you, not leave you wanting.” 

He leaned forward over the front seats to reach the dashboard, unable to stop giggling and squirming a little when Juno took that opportunity to sit up and press kisses to his hips and tailbone. He’d stored some things in the glove compartment earlier in the day (after making sure that Jet was definitely done working on the car for the foreseeable), enough of a variety to satisfy whatever mood he and Juno washed up in when the moment came. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed the already harnessed cock and a small bottle of lube. Classics were classics for a reason, after all.

Slipping it on was a simple matter, his clever hands well used to straps and buckles for a number of fun reasons. Juno was already practically salivating by the time it was suitably secure, eye wide and hungry. 

“Do you want me, dear heart?” Nureyev purred, taking Juno’s chin firmly. 

“Yes,” the lady who was fast becoming his whole world gasped out, voice deep and raw with need.

“Then say it, Juno Steel,” his lips quirked up in a satisfied grin. 

“I want you,” he didn’t even hesitate, letting out in an exhalation, “I want you to fuck me, Nureyev, please. I need you.”

“Then have me, dear.”

Nureyev did love to take his time prepping Juno, opening him up and making him surrender as he’d charmed so many locked doors and cabinets and cases hiding treasures from him in the past. But that was for when they were staying in hotels on jobs, when they had all the space and time they could wish for. That was for when Juno didn’t look ready to spill himself across the inside of Nureyev’s wrist at the slightest touch. So it was swift work, soaking his fingers and pressing them in, feeling the pull and tug of Juno’s muscles turn to slack and need, listening to him keen into the crook of his own arm. 

When he thought him ready enough, Nureyev wound his unoccupied fingers through Juno’s hand and drew his arm away gently, “There’s floors worth of steel between us and them, my heart, let me hear you?”

Juno couldn’t form a coherent answer, just answering with a frantic nod, sweat running down the bridge of his nose and whimpering, hands coming up to stroke Nureyev’s chest instead, thumbs lovingly brushing the twin silvered surgical scars there and the several that had come from sources far less clinical. Nureyev let his eyes close a moment, feeling that gaze like a sunbeam in summer, feeling it light him up from the inside. He felt so adored under Juno’s eye when he held him like that. Like that well deep in his stomach that had been there for as long as he could remember, that he’d tried to close up with other people’s possessions and the knowledge that he was the best, like one day it might actually be full and he would be a whole person. 

But he couldn’t bear very long with his eyes closed, not when there was a naked, trembling, wanting Juno Steel underneath him to look at. He knelt on the soft leather of the car seat, pulling Juno’s legs up over his own thin shoulders, leaving his lover gripping the door behind his head for support. He looked damn gorgeous like this, exposed and spread out, already leaking and desperate. 

Despite the slenderness of his frame, Nureyev could hold Juno’s hips up easily. He was all ropy muscle, whereas Juno had a hollowness to him, hidden by his stockiness, the product of years of neglect. Nureyev was delighted to see him starting to fill out after a while on the Carte Blanche as it’s resident cook. He ran his greedy hands over all of it now, his chest with it’s thicket of curled dark hair, his stomach, his waist. All of it his. Nureyev ran his tongue over his teeth, suddenly ravenous. 

Their bodies locked together smoothly, with a gasp from both of them, Juno as his body yielded to the cock and Nureyev as the base of the toy pressed on his own. Though it was by no means the biggest they had, the toy Nureyev had chosen was a favourite of both of them. Juno liked it because it was a comfortable middle ground, satisfying but he’d still be able to walk the next day. Nureyev liked it for a reason he’d never tell Juno, not unless they were maybe eighty after growing old together. It was red. Red reminded him of dahlias and roses and their first night together. 

Juno was unashamedly loud, hence why he’d instinctively put his arm over his mouth. But now Nureyev could listen to every beautiful noise he was pulling from the former detective and he intended to do just that. He whined as Nureyev drew back and began to sink deeper, grunting when he hit the peak of his thrust, climbing in pitch and volume as he picked up speed, keeping the progress achingly slow.

“My god, Juno, my dear heart…” Nureyev groaned, gripping his ankles, “You feel so good, always so good for me…”

That word seemed to have more power over Juno than any, he audibly whimpered everytime it passed Nureyev’s lips so of course his thief used it liberally, always certain to tell him he was wonderful, beautiful, that he was  _ good.  _

He could tell there were far too many times that his lover had been denied those words. And, well, if it fell to him to tip the scales the right way then he would do it gladly. 

Juno worked with his movements, their bodies knowing each other well by now. The car rocked on his wheels with their rhythm, their cries and gasps echoing through the hangar, Juno’s voice ringing louder than Nureyev’s as he trembled and tensed. 

“Fuck…” he eventually yelped, face tight, teeth gritted, “I’m there, Nureyev, babe, fuck…”

Nureyev nodded, bending him nearly in half as he leaned down to kiss him deeply.

“Come with me,” he whispered into his mouth, reaching down between them and lightly wrapping his hand around his erection. 

Juno did as asked, spectacularly and messily, as he often did. He screamed his name, his actual name, in his moment of bliss and it echoed around them so perfectly. Nureyev was a second behind, giving a long, low moan as he finished, feeling slick run down the inside of his thighs, still with his name in Juno’s voice ringing in his ears and his heat cooling on his hand. 

And he felt like he mattered. 

“That was so good,” Juno panted dizzily, “We need to clean this car before the big guy absolutely murders us or at least gives us that disapproving look and shakes his head which is somehow worse but oh my god, that was so fucking good…”

Nureyev laughed lazily, kissing him again just because he could before moving away so his legs could fall. There he primly began to lick his hand clean like a cat, the low light catching on the points of his teeth. 

“Oh come on, that’s not fair…” Juno whined, voice breaking, “You can’t just do that to a lady, not after you’ve just fucked him so hard he forgot his own name…”

Nureyev smirked, stretching out as much as he could, resting on his stomach, chin on Juno’s chest. 

“Your name is Juno Steel,” he murmured, looking up at him, “You have one eye, a scar across your face and the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. And I am so lucky to have found a place within it.”

It looked then as if Juno might cry and Nureyev felt a sudden stab of panic, searching back through what he’d said for the wrong thing. But Juno was moving to hold him closer, kiss him with a softness that hadn’t been there the last few times. When it was done, for it only lasted a few heartbeats, Nureyev felt like something inside of him had been seen, something hidden. 

And it was a good thing. 

He thought he might say it then. The words were right there, waiting at the back of his throat, ready to be called forward. Would it be so hard to say it a second time? 

But the moment passed and Nureyev just smiled, resting his head on Juno’s chest, listening to his heartbeat slow. Both of them languished in those long, beautiful moments of  _ afterwards _ , putting off getting up until the heat of their efforts left and they began to shiver. 

The words were there but unspoken for now, saved for another time. Because both of them could be so wonderfully, perfectly certain that there would be another time. 

And in some ways, that was better. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed this! It's a totally free way to make a writer feel super special and spur me to write more!


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